


Toe

by Aroomie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bear School (The Witcher), Even for Witchers, Family, Gen, Lambert Being a Little Shit (The Witcher), M/M, Stubbed Toes hurt!, Teasing, Winter At Kaer Morhen, Wolf School (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aroomie/pseuds/Aroomie
Summary: Even a Witcher's toe is sensitive to pain.
Relationships: Vesemir/Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: MaMooRoo BIKM Bingo





	Toe

Wintering at Kaer Morhen was always an interesting and eventful season. Zerrin, one of the eldest surviving of the Bear School, standing a few inches over six feet with deep brown hair that was only just now greying at his temples and built as thick as a tree trunk, had taken to enjoying his time at the run-down castle. For one reason in particular. Zerrin looked up as said reason began yelling.

“Pay attention, Lambert! Eskel won’t go easy on you just because you’re too fucking tired!” Vesemir’s voice rang out over the training yard, not enough snow covering the ground yet to make it unusable. Zerrin smirked, scratching the scruff of his beard as he walked over to stand next to the old Wolf Witcher, watching as the younger Witcher’s trained. 

“Is he being snippy?” Zerrin asked, glancing down at Vesemir as the old Wolf sighed. 

“Always. I’m amazed the boy can keep his head on his shoulders,” Vesemir groused, making Zerrin chuckle. 

“Allow me to begin the preparations for the evening meal,” Zerrin smiled and Vesemir nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off of his pups as they spared. The Bear smiled just that little bit more before leaning down and pressing his lips to the crown of Vesemir’s hair, the old Wolf leaning into the affection for just a moment before waving the Bear off.

Dinner preparation killed time quickly, not long after Zerrin had started he looked up to see the sun setting, meat and bread spread out across the table in the main hall. He listened to the clamoring of feet and playful bickering, looking up from setting down the last seating placement to see the younger Witchers crowd into the room. Zerrin scrunched his nose.

“Don’t you cubs ever fucking bathe before eating? You’re fucking filthy,” The Bear growled, watching as the younger Wolves gave each other a once over then shrugged as they all filed in and began dishing out their meals. Zerrin rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Last fucking time, next time I’m grabbing a fucking whip to send you to the baths first!” 

There were groaning and mocking voices behind Zerrin as the Bear turned heel and went back to the kitchen to fetch the last of the evening meal, easily plucking the plate from the table then turning to head back into the hall. Turning too fast, not looking where his foot was about to land, too busy listening to Vesemir giving the Wolves hell for their sloppy footwork… Whatever excuse Zerrin would tell himself later…

Zerrin’s foot swung about too wide, too fast, and rammed into the leg of the table. He dropped the plate in his hands, the berries and honey cake scattering across the floor, as a loud pain-filled yelp left him and he went crumpling to the floor as he grabbed hold of the sore digit. How can one thing hurt so fucking much!?

“Zerrin!” The Bear looked up to see Vesemir rushing into the kitchen, the old Wolf dropping down next to him, hands fluttering about his form to check for injury. “What happened? You alright?” 

“Fine… fine…” Zerrin growled, shifting so he could sit properly on his rear while still holding onto his boot. “Stubbed my fucking toe.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” Both elder Witcher’s looked up to see Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt standing in the doorway. Lambert’s lips pressed into a cocky grin. “You stubbed your toe? On fucking what?!” 

Zerrin frowned at Lambert, his gaze narrowing on him, while Vesemir’s lips pulled back into a snarl.

“Go finish your fucking food, Lambert. Else I’ll withhold the bacon on your plate in the morning,” Vesemir threatened and Zerrin swore he’s never seen the youngest Wolf move so damn fast, his brothers moving after him. “Now, let me see,” before Zerrin had thought to stop Vesemir, the old Wolf had moved to Zerrin’s front and was now swatting the Bear’s hand away from his boot and quickly removing it. 

Both elders let out a small hissing sound as Zerrin’s big toe came into view, already a deep purple colour, the nail broke, and blood welling at the end from where the nail had separated from the skin. 

“Wow, you hit it good,” Vesemir said with a low whistle and Zerrin groaned, his head dropping into open palms. “Not to worry, fluffy, we’ll get you sorted,” Vesemir chuckled, earning a low growl from Zerrin when being called “fluffy”. Vesemir stood and moved about the kitchen, grabbing a couple of items before coming back around, kneeling with Zerrin again. Vesemir had brought a small cup with water, dipping a cloth in and wiping away as much blood as he could before pressing a small wad of bandage to the end, swiftly wrapping it with enough pressure to keep the bleeding to a minimum. 

“Sorry,” Vesemir looked up at the Bear’s voice, the normally deep timbre sounding small, a small smile on his face. “I ruined the dessert,” Zerrin’s eyes were locked on the food on the floor and Vesemir couldn’t help but laugh.

“There is another in the cabinet, we can make more tomorrow. Don’t fret yourself, love,” Vesemir leaned over and gently pressed his forehead to Zerrin’s, staying like that for a long while until finally pulling away to finish wrapping the Bear’s injured digit. 

The two joined the younger Wolves, idle chatter exchanged between them while Zerrin only picked at his meal. How utterly embarrassing, to stub one’s toe on a fucking table leg. Sure the thing was made from stone, but still!

“How’s the foot, old man?” Zerrin glared over at Lambert. “Need help walking to your room later?” The youngest Wolf grinned broadly, gathering up his plates to take to the kitchen. Zerrin’s lip pulled back into a snarl, glaring still as he watched Lambert rise from the bench and walk around the table. 

Zerrin lifted his goblet to his lips, taking a long deep swallow, waiting. Just as Lambert’s foot was about to set down, he flicked a decently sized berry from his plate, the small fruit landing on the floor just as Lambert’s toe met the concrete. There was a squishing sound, followed by a very loud yelp as Lambert slipped on the juices, stumbling forward and falling into a “dance” as he tried to regain his balance. 

Geralt and Eskel both winced as there was a very loud crashing thud, Vesemir staring wide-eyed after the young pup, Zerrin finally setting his now empty goblet down then gathered his plates and went to the kitchen. The Bear stared at Lambert, the youngest Wolf somehow managing to fall face-first into the island in the middle and was now slumped against the side of it, food remnants from dinners preparation covering every inch of him, his plate from dinner broken on the floor, the Witcher’s foot in his hand.

“Stubbed your toe?” Zerrin asked innocently. Lambert nodded. “Hmmm, hurts does it?” Another nod. “Need help getting to your room?” Zerrin grinned broadly, The other Wolves breaking out into laughter as Lambert snarled. 

“Fuck off!”


End file.
